Pressure
by nancy fan
Summary: Snapshots of Quinn and Puck's life together. Sequel to Spring Break.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the sequel to my first story, Spring Break. Some readers expressed an interest in seeing how Puck and Quinn were coping with the arrival of their baby daughter, so here it is:) I hope everyone enjoys!**

Clothes seemed to be everywhere, draped over furniture and heaped in untidy bundles on the floor. The already tiny space she lived in seemed to have halved with the arrival of baby Ella in their lives; her crib and the boxes of diapers inhabiting any free space she may once have had.

Risking a glance at her newborn, Quinn was gratified to see that her newborn was still slumbering peacefully beneath the soft pink of her baby blanket. For a change, Quinn considered ruefully, the dark shadows smudged under her eyes a testament to the hours she had spent pacing the worn carpet with Ella cradled tightly in her arms in a bid to rock her to sleep. Quietly pulling out the top drawer of the ancient dresser, Quinn rummaged through the untidy tangle of brightly colored clothes, before pulling out a white cotton dress and holding it in front of her triumphantly. White had always been her color, complementing her pale blonde hair perfectly and the dress skimmed her curves, minimizing the still swollen outline of her stomach. It was important to Quinn that she still radiated some of her former glory when she made her return to school the following day. There would be snide whispering she knew, girls making catty remarks about the last pounds of pregnancy weight that still hung onto her narrow frame and about the shadows that loomed under her eyes. Skillfully applying a generous dusting of blusher to her cheeks, Quinn was determined not to allow her classmates to indulge for too long in their smug judgement.

She was Quinn Fabray, for Christ's sake. The most beautiful girl in school with a kick ass boyfriend to boot.

Ella's gentle whimpering from the borrowed white wicker crib, pulled Quinn away from the mirror, her arms outstretched as she lifted the baby into her arms,

"What's wrong, baby?" she whispered softly, Ella pressed gently to her chest as she set about preparing the baby's bottle. Spooning the powdered milk into the colorful plastic, Quinn hummed softly, marveling at the feel of her daughter cradled so carefully in her arms.

She really was perfect. Whenever Quinn reminisced painfully over her lost position as head cheerleader or the cruel disownment by her family, she only had to look at her daughter, to run a finger over the petal softness of her skin to feel okay with how things now were.

Turning the bottle upside down and flicking a few drops onto the pale skin of her wrist, Quinn deliberated for a minute before pressing the bottle gently into her daughter's rosebud mouth.

"You're such a good baby," Quinn whispered encouragingly, smiling enthralled as Ella suckled eagerly at the rubber teat of the bottle. "Now, you need to go to your daddy so Mommy can take a minute to look pretty, for all those horrible people at school,"

Lying sprawled beneath the worn blankets, Puck was still slumbering contented, undisturbed by the hushed cries of his daughter.

He stayed over most nights, a habit borne out of both wanting to spending to spend time with Ella and Quinn needing him to share the burden of the sleepless nights.

"Puck, you need to take Ella," Quinn whispered to him softly, as she sat down on the creaking bed next to him and gave her daughter a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I need to get ready for school, if I am going to face everyone today,"

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Puck pulled himself up in the bed, a smile spreading across his face as his gaze came to a rest on the newborn cradled carefully in his girlfriend's arms.

"Hey Ella," he cooed softly, eagerly taking the baby in his arms, the bottle angled expertly against her lips.

Running a brush through her pale blonde hair, Quinn couldn't help but smile taking in the endearing scene in front of her. Puck had been great. In the cocoon of their tiny room, away from the curious, prying eyes of the high school hallways and the pressures from his egotistical jock friends, Puck and Quinn had actually gotten along pretty well. He had been sweet, sensitive and kind. He bought little dresses for his daughter that she would be able to wear for months as they were far too big and toys that she wouldn't be able to grasp yet in her tiny, balled hands. But it was sweet and Quinn couldn't deny that he was a great father, Noah holding Ella for hours in his arms and rocking her to sleep with a patience that he had never displayed as his high school alter ego, Puck.

--

Her hand clasped securely in Noah's, the pair navigated the teeming hallways together, Quinn tossing her blonde hair pointedly over her shoulder and her expression resolute, daring anyone to cast judgement on them.

"I hope Ella's okay," Quinn fretted worriedly, rummaging in her locker distractedly as she darted anxious glances at the display of her cell phone. "She was coughing a little last night. I hope she's not coming down with something. Maybe I should call your mother just to be sure," she deliberated uncertainly, her blue eyes searching Puck's face

"Don't," Puck instructed her patiently, removing the cell phone forcibly from her hand. "Ella will be fine. My mom did raise two children, remember?

"I suppose," Quinn allowed reluctantly, though a small frown creased her brow as she slid the small pile of heavy textbooks into her bag.

Unlike the Fabray's cruel denial of their daughter's situation, Puck's parents had handled the news of the pregnancy with a little more understanding. Jane Puckerman had insisted on taking over the responsibility of caring for Ella while Quinn was at school. Ever generous, The Puckermans had even offered Quinn and Ella a place in their home but though grateful, Quinn had tactfully declined, a part of her needing to battle the initial trials of parenthood on her own.

Her dark hair bouncing in unison with her every step, Rachel practically bounded down the crowded hallway, her eyes alight when she spotted Quinn. "May I just begin by welcoming you back to McKinley, Quinn," she announced brightly, a smile plastered across her face. "Parenthood certainly seems to suit you,"

Rachel always knew how to rub her up the wrong way. Swallowing her annoyance, Quinn faked an equally sunny smile, knowing the girl was only trying to be friendly.

"Would you like to see a picture of Ella?" Quinn offered uncertainly, unused to people being enthusiastic over the birth of her baby daughter. Pushing Ella along the streets in her stroller, Quinn had become accustomed to the pitiful stares, women tutting condescendingly that she was too young to be charged with such a burden.

Accepting the miniature album, cartoon yellow ducklings adorning the shiny plastic, Rachel flicked through the carefully positioned photographs, an enthralled smile on her face.

"She's beautiful," she sighed in awe, her fingers tracing over the soft fuzz of hair that sprouted from Ella's head. "You know, you can come to me if you ever need any baby related advice." Rachel offered in a matter-of-fact tone, a serious expression suddenly crossing her face as she passed the photograph album back into Quinn's hand. "My expert babysitting skills have been commented on regularly by the a number of families in our neighborhood. Really, if you have any concerns or any questions, you can contact me on my cell. You have my number right?"

Glancing disbelievingly at the girl, Quinn was struck by the almost irresistible urge to break into a snide grin. No. That was the old Quinn, she reminded herself sternly, the weight of the album suddenly heavy in her hands. The new Quinn, needed to be charitable and kind in her actions if she were to set a good example to her daughter.

Instead, she smiled sweetly at Rachel before sliding the photograph album into her bag. "Thank you for the offer, Rachel," she beamed, slamming her locker door shut with a resounding bang.

--

Picking up her fork, Quinn sifted through the unappetizing mess of pasta and tomato sauce that was masquerading as lasagna. She could feel eyes boring into her back, Quinn almost able to hear the whisper of smug voices gossiping gleefully behind her back.

"They'll be talking about someone else next week, Quinn," Santana offered matter-of-factly before glaring daggers at a freckled blonde who dared turn around and gape openly at Quinn. "Probably, Mr. Shue. Word on the street is that he and Ms. Pillsbury have been engaging in some extracurricular activities if you catch my drift."

"You're not serious," Quinn retorted in shock, her eyes widening curiously as she took a delicate sip from her bottle of water.

As Santana launched into a detailed description of the alleged tryst, Quinn couldn't help but gaze enviously at her friend's ever perfect figure. The bright red of her cheerio's uniform glided seamlessly over her neat curves, displaying her long, tanned legs to their best advantage.

"You're coming to Glee club, right?" Santana asked distractedly as she examined her salad suspiciously.

"Definitely," Quinn agreed, pushing the cold remains of her pasta dinner around the plate. Quinn had missed this. As much as she loved Ella, a part of her still yearned for how things were. Returning to school and to Glee club gave her a semblance of her old life and for that Quinn was grateful. "Mrs. Puckerman has agreed to look after Ella until I get home,"

"How are things going with Puck?" Santana cut in with curious eyes, before biting noisily into her apple.

Quinn knew her friends would never fully understand her relationship with Puck; his role long cast as that of a shameless womanizer.

"Great," Quinn sighed happily, recalling the soft look in Puck's eyes as he tenderly held their daughter in his arms that morning. "He's amazing with Ella, really," she proclaimed, noting the unconvinced expression on her friend's face.

The thrill of music sounding from her bag, prompted Quinn to rummage frantically for the offending cell phone, already sensing the likely reason for the call.

"Is Ella alright?" Quinn demanded nervously, her heart beating frantically as she recalled her daughter's choked fits of coughing the previous night. _What if there was something wrong? I know I shouldn't have left her, _she berated herself unhappily, her hand twisting awkwardly in her lap.

"She's fine," Jane Puckerman reassured the panicked teen soothingly, though Quinn could hear Ella's angry cries in the background. "It's just her cough is getting worse and I think she needs to see a doctor. I hate ringing you like this when you're at school but Ella needs her mother at the moment,"

"That's okay," Quinn sighed in relief, issuing a hasty goodbye to Jane Puckerman before impatiently punching in Noah's number. There was no reply, only his same cute attempt at creating a witty voice mail greeting. _Damn you, Puck _she swore inwardly, though she displayed none of her annoyance to the openly interested Santana.

Tossing the cellphone into her bag, Quinn stepped up from the table, an apologetic look on her face. "I've got to go. Ella's cough has got worse and I need to take her to the doctor,"

"What about Glee club?" Santana demanded, her tone almost accusing as she scraped her long, dark hair into a high ponytail, the red ribbon trailing down her back.

"I'll be there tomorrow, I promise," Quinn replied earnestly though the truth was that she had no idea if she'd be in school, much less have the luxury of attending Glee club.

Up until now, Quinn had managed to convince herself that she could have out all. That she would reclaim her position as head cheerleader in the Cheerios and have Puck and Glee club and that Ella would just somehow fit into all that in the background. Now, she could clearly see how wrong she had been. Everything had changed. There would be parties and prom nights she would miss out on because Ella could be sick and the mere notion of attending college suddenly seemed like an impossible dream.

"Sure," Santana replied, though her tone was doubtful. "Call me later, okay?"

Nodding unconvincingly, Quinn grabbed her bag before rushing out into the bright blueness outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the encouraging reviews:) They are much appreciated!**

**

* * *

It's prom night in McKinley High...**

Her golden blonde hair, pinned up in tight rollers on her head, Quinn hastily rubbed in some moisturizer into her sun kissed skin, keeping a watchful eye on her two-month-old daughter. Beside her, clad in the palest pink, Ella lay wriggling on her back, her tiny limbs flailing wildly in the air.

"Ella's the best baby in the world, aren't you, precious?" Quinn chanted softly, her heart melting a little at Ella's answering coos. Unable to resist her daughter, Quinn leaned down and scooped the tiny bundle into her arms, reveling in the feel of her daughter's velvet skin pressed against her cheek.

"Look at the pretty dress your mommy is going to wear," Quinn murmured softly, dropping a kiss onto Ella's head of wispy blonde curls, that Puck liked to scrape into a sudsy mohauk, just like his, when she was splashing happily in her blue plastic bath tub.

Borrowed from Brittany, the dress was made of the most delicate silk and shaded in a color close to honey. It glided seamlessly over her neat curves and draped low on the back, exposing her a generous expanse of gleaming flesh, of which she knew Puck would approve. It now hung carefully in the battered closet, sandwiched between Quinn's veritable rainbow of sundresses and skirts.

"It's pretty isn't it, Ella?" Quinn thrilled happily, holding her daughter up playfully in the air and laughing as Ella shrieked delightedly from her lofty perch up above her mother's head.

"What's pretty, besides my two beautiful girls?" Puck declared in a comically charming tone, walking up behind Quinn and wrapping his arms warmly around her waist.

Whipping around to face Puck, Quinn pressed her lips to his quickly before passing their daughter into his waiting arms.

"I was just showing Ella my dress for prom," Quinn informed him with a sunny smile, unable to resist reaching out a hand and running it over the shimmering fabric.

Motherhood was many things but providing Quinn with opportunities to look glamorous it did not. Her morning routine was a frantic rush, Quinn barely managing a hasty shower and smoothing on some makeup while Ella cooed delightedly beside her in the playpen. Breakfast was a messy affair, Ella perched carefully in the crook of Quinn's arm, her feet kicking happily as she suckled eagerly on her bottle. Milk would dribble lazily out of the corner of the baby's mouth, staining Quinn's brightly colored shirt with patches of sour smelling damp and predictably Quinn would have to strip off her shirt for a fresh one, the whole process rendering her hopelessly late for school.

The occasion provided the perfect opportunity for Quinn to luxuriate in the frivolous excesses of prom and though her dress was borrowed and there was no money to allow her pay to get her hair styled, it hardly mattered, Quinn simply delighted to be allowed resume her former life as a carefree teenager, if only for a night.

"Is your mommy trying to turn you into a shopaholic before you even turn one?" Puck murmured to his daughter jokingly, Ella chortling in delight at hearing her father's familiar whispers, her blue eyes dancing happily as he held her gently to his shoulder.

Seeing Puck interact so naturally with Ella never failed to bring out a smile on Quinn's face and replacing her compact momentarily on the ancient dressing table, she dropped a kiss on her daughter's soft head before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips softly to her boyfriend's.

"You're amazing with her, you know," Quinn murmured, smiling as she trailed a finger gently across her daughter's cheek, the action prompting a wide eyed grin from the squirming bundle in Puck's arms.

"I know," Puck declared with characteristic cockiness, affording a cheeky wink at his daughter before flashing Quinn with a bright smile.

Though having tentative beginnings, Quinn and Puck's relationship had deepened in the weeks following Ella's birth. Puck blew off hanging out with Mike and the other members of the football team to sing softly to his daughter and Quinn loved nothing more than lying sprawled in Puck's arms, baby Ella nestled carefully between the two of them. In the moonlit hours, when Ella was fussy and refused to sleep, Quinn chatted weary-eyed for hours with Puck, their baby pressed tightly against her breast. She quickly learned that his favorite movie was Finding Nemo (though to his jock friends, he cockily claimed it was Scarface) and that he had broken his right arm twice, falling off the highest branches of the chestnut tree in his yard two summers in a row.

"I'll take Ella for a walk in her stroller and give you a chance to get ready," Puck offered genially, careful to bundle his daughter into a warm woolen cardigan, despite the blazing sun outside.

"That would be great," Quinn sighed gratefully, a hasty glance at the clock confirming her suspicions that the time was edging dangerously close to when they would be expected to arrive at Brittany's house for the requisite champagne and photo opportunity session that her mom simply insisted on having.

--

"You look so hot in that dress," Puck whispered heatedly, taking Quinn's hand and enfolding her warmly in his arms.

"You think?" Quinn replied back a little self-consciously, though inwardly she knew she looked good.

Sleepless nights and Ella's demanding schedule had worked wonders on Quinn's figure and the last few pounds of pregnancy weight had fallen off her, with little effort on her part. The silk dress glided seamlessly over her slim frame, maximizing her newly enhanced breasts and smooth creamy skin to their best advantage.

"Definitely," Puck agreed with a slow smile, looking so incredibly sexy in his black tuxedo that Quinn was struck with a sudden urge to drag him over to a darkened corner of the function room and allow him to show her exactly how irresistible he found her. In true Puck style, his narrow grey tie was already opened and slung casually from his neck, his dress coat long abandoned on the back of some random chair. "You're the hottest girl in the room,"

In her former existence as head cheerleader, Quinn would have immediately agreed but her confidence had taken a knock during the long nine moths of pregnancy. It was hard to feel sexy and beautiful, when silvery stretch marks marred her skin and her breasts had been so engorged with milk that they felt like they could explode at any given second.

His stubble rough against her neck, Quinn sighed in contentment as Puck brought her face up to hers and kissed her deeply.

"You taste like strawberries," he observed with a curious grin, cupping her face gently in his hands and leaning in again to snatch a tender kiss.

"Get a room, you guys," Santana and Brittany chimed in teasingly as they stalked off the dance floor towards them, a potent looking vodka concoction in hand. Clad in varying shades of blue, Brittany's figure hugging dress guaranteed she command every eye in the room, while Santana's red, strapless dress, gave her the illusion of having the voluptuous chest she always wanted.

"We might just take you up on that," Puck retorted slyly, slapping his girlfriend playfully on the ass, causing Quinn to glare up at him with a warning expression in her hazel eyes.

Though Quinn and Puck had grown closer in many ways since the birth of their daughter; sex had been one item that had been firmly off the agenda. Quinn on her part was understandably wary of engaging in sexual activity, the torture of labor still painfully vivid in her mind. And Puck had been wonderfully patient, though that still didn't stop him from edging a hand tentatively under her panties when Ella was sleeping peacefully in her crib and Quinn was lying sprawled beside him on the bed.

_Maybe tonight_, she considered thoughtfully, turning immediately away from Puck, as though afraid that the blush creeping across her cheeks would betray her very thoughts.

"You coming dancing, Quinn?" Santana asked brightly but Quinn didn't miss the way her friend's liquid brown eyes swept over Puck appreciatively. Though she would never admit it, Santana had always harbored somewhat of a crush on Puck. At school, Santana always found an excuse to be hanging around Puck, pleading with him to help her with her algebra homework, when it was common knowledge that Puck flunked regularly in math. At parties, she was even more shameless, Santana draped drunkenly over Puck, while he tried in vain to escape her clutches.

"Definitely," Quinn smiled thinly and though she knew it was childish, she couldn't resist trailing a hand possessively across Puck's well muscled chest before pressing her lips longingly to his.

"See you in a while," he whispered back, the arm snaking her close for a final kiss, leaving their audience of Cheerios in no doubt as to where Noah Puckerman's affections lay.

--

Silver and blue streamers trailing from the ceiling and the tables festooned with balloons, the hotel function room had been miraculously transformed into a winter wonderland, which was rather ironic considering the blistering heat outside. The dance floor was heaving, crowded with mostly girls clad in jewel-colored satin while their boyfriends hung reluctantly on the edges. Squeezing her way carefully through the crush, Quinn squealed delightedly when the band played the opening notes to her favorite song.

"I love this song," she gushed happily, a wide smile displaying her pearly white teeth to perfection.

Encircled by her Cheerio friends and her blonde curls bouncing lightly on her shoulders, Quinn felt she was regaining a little of her old self, the Quinn she had given up for lost when, alone and afraid, she had been handed a squalling Ella in the delivery room. It felt good but even so Quinn tactfully declined Santana's offer of some smuggled vodka, the plastic container of alcohol miraculously concealed in the tiny confines of Brittany's silvery-blue clutch.

Quinn had sworn to herself that she wouldn't drink. A hangover and Ella's infamous screaming matches were a combination she wasn't willing to risk.

"Suit yourself," Santana shrugged and Quinn was certain she could detect a scowl on the other girl's face but then she was gone, disappeared in the faceless crowd.

Two cokes, fifteen songs and one ass grabbing incident later and Quinn traipsed wearily through the crowd, already looking forward to pressing her lips softly to Pucks and suggesting sweetly that they take advantage of the rare baby-free night.

Brittany was drunk and wrapped around some anonymous senior that Quinn already knew, she would regret in the morning and Santana was MIA, presumably locked in a similarly passionate clinch with whatever jock she had deemed as being passable for the night.

The music was starting to graduate towards the slower, more lethargic songs and glimpsing Mike flirting shamelessly with some, well endowed blonde that Quinn recognized vaguely from the halls of McKinley High, she couldn't but roll her eyes in annoyance.

"Hey Mike, did you see Puck?" Quinn demanded impatiently, unwilling to spend a second more than absolutely necessarily with Puck's egotistical jock friend.

The blonde looked uncomfortable at that and Mike's obviously contrived answer added to Quinn's sense of unease.

_Where the hell was Puck?_

Stepping away warily from the couple, Quinn could feel their eyes following her as she negotiated her way through the heaving crowd.

In one corner, she could just about make out Rachel smiling adoringly at something cute Finn had just said, the pink of her dress shimmering prettily under the twinkling fairy lights strewn from the ceiling. In another, a red head was splayed unattractively on the ground, emptying the contents of her stomach on the carpeted ground after an obviously heavy night of partying. Shuddering at the sight, Quinn edged her way through the fringes of the crowd, goose pimple rising on her skin as a blast of cool air blustered through the open doors of the function room.

Wrapping her arms protectively around her thin shoulders, Quinn was just about to return to the party, when a flash of red out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Fire engine red. The same color dress Santana had been wearing earlier.

Imbued with a feeling of both fear and dread, Quinn felt strangely compelled to glance over at the offending couple.

Seeing Puck's arms wrapped tightly around the Cheerio, Santana's dress hitched up immodestly around her waist, Quinn felt sick.

Choking a sob, she rushed out of the hotel and into the inky black of the night outside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave feedback:) It is much appreciated!**

**Enjoy!  
**

Quinn hadn't spoken to Puck in over a week. At school she was a frosty ice-princess, tossing her pale-blonde hair with a haughty sneer and glowering, whenever Puck even so much as dared occupy the same room as her. Which was a problem, considering they shared a first period French class together, adjacent lockers and a daughter, Ella.

Ella, a wriggling pink bundle of wispy, blonde curls was blissfully ignorant of the rift between her parents and instead contented herself with the pastel colored mobile that hung from her crib; her curious eyes following the circling crew of pink-and-purple horses with such intent that Quinn couldn't help but smile in response.

Puck still saw his daughter everyday; Quinn's arrangement with Mrs. Puckerman to take care of Ella while she is at school ensures this. Besides, Quinn would never deprive Puck of the opportunity to see his daughter. Being shunned by her parents and left to fend for herself, pregnant and alone, has taught Quinn a lot about the importance of family. Puck is a wonderful father to Ella, so even though the mere thought of her ex-boyfriend inspires a red-hot, furious anger in Quinn, the truth is that, she still can't deny that fact. So, Quinn purposely dawdles on the way home from school, peering longingly in shop windows and admiring the impossibly gorgeous dresses draped teasingly on mannequins, that she knows damn well she could never afford, all to allow Puck the precious extra moments to spend with his daughter.

Glancing in the mirror, Quinn was happily smug, seeing the reflection smiling back at her. The half an hour snatched from the morning, while Ella slumbered contentedly in her crib, had resulted in soft waves of silvery-blonde that trailed loosely down her back. The gleaming white dress she had slipped carefully over her head was a favorite of Puck's, she knew and that was important. Puck may be a despicable, hardhearted bastard but that still didn't mean that Quinn doesn't want him looking at her, when she saunters through the hallways with her head held high and her wide smile belying the emptiness that lay inside.

* * *

The day was glorious. Teased by the impossible blue peeking in through the window of the classroom, Quinn ate her lunch outside on the grass, picking distractedly at the wilted salad leaves heaped on her plate.

"It's so goddamn hot," Brittany moaned unhappily beside her as she scraped back her blonde hair into a sleek ponytail. "I'm going to turn into a lobster, if I don't get out of this sun soon."

"How the hell can you hate the sun, Brittany?" Quinn responded incredulously, the straps of her white sundress tugged down and her long bare legs sprawled out in front of her on the grass. A few days into summer and Quinn's skin was already gleaming with a sun kissed glow, the tan setting off her pastel rainbow of clothes perfectly.

"I don't hate the sun. I just hate what it does to my skin," Brittany sighed dramatically, withdrawing a bottle of sunscreen from her bag and applying a generous layer to her already reddening skin.

Taking a long drink from her bottle of water, Quinn lay back on the grass, reveling in the relative cool of the grass against her skin.

The feeling of sheer freedom was bliss.

Though Quinn had once reigned as queen of McKinley High, school had always seemed like a chore; juggling Glee Club, the Cheerios and a full social schedule rendering her seemingly exhausted. Parenthood certainly changed her perspective on that. Nights spent pacing the worn carpet of her room, while Ella wailed miserably in her arms was exhausting. Nursing a sick, cranky baby for six whole days was exhausting. Attending class at McKinley High was most certainly not; Quinn simply happy to be released from the monotony of preparing bottles and changing diapers for a few hours.

"Puck misses you, you know,"

Hearing the uncharacteristically sage words flow from her friend's mouth, Quinn first stares at Brittany in surprise before turning over on her side to avoid the inevitable questioning that would ensue. She isn't ready to talk yet about the horrendous ruins that is her relationship with Puck.

"That's good to know," Quinn snaps back fiercely, in a tone that makes it clear that the conversation is over.

Pushing her sunglasses up a little higher on her nose, Quinn was about to reach for her bottle of water when she is conscious of the weight of someone's gaze resting on her.

Sitting up curiously, Quinn dusts the smattering of crumbs from her dress, sighing when her hazel eyes meet Finn's.

"What do you want?"

* * *

_Fuck, Quinn was hot. _

Stretched out on the grass, her tight cotton dress clung to her every curve and made her perfectly pert breasts all the more appealing. Seeing her, Puck was struck with the sudden urge to walk over to her and pull her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot all about Santana and prom night. Knowing Quinn would probably kick him in the balls, if he so much as even dared step onto the grass beside her, Puck immediately reconsidered and instead joined the Mike and the guys who were sitting at a lunch table,

"What was up with Coach Tanaka yesterday? He nearly killed us during practice."

Puck answered something back noncommittally, pretending to be eating his hamburger but really he was watching Quinn. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Jason was muttering something in a lecherous tone about a hot redhead who wasn't wearing a bra and he could swear he could see her nipples through her thin white shirt. Usually that was information, Puck would be interested in, would attend to with far more enthusiasm than he was now. But Quinn had just turned over on her side, the act having unknowingly hoisted the white dress almost the entire way up her thigh and the sight of her glistening, tanned skin was almost more than he could bear.

_He had to talk to her. Had to try to make her understand. _

Because if he spent another minute staring at Quinn, Puck was certain he was going to explode.

Balling up the remains of his sandwich and empty bottle of water, Puck made to stand up when Mike fixed him with an openly curious look. "Where are you off to?"

"What's it to you?" Puck grunts back, tossing the waste into the garbage can with an angry slam.

"It's just if you're going to talk to Quinn, I wouldn't bother," he retorted with a sly grin, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head knowingly as he gestured towards the patch of grass where Puck knew Quinn was lying. "It looks like someone else got there first,"

Glancing over his shoulder, Puck felt as though he had been sucker punched in the stomach seeing Finn sitting down on the grass beside Quinn.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was bad. _

Quinn was doing that cute, hair flip thing she always did when she was being flirty. And Finn was his usual, hapless self, his face radiating adoration as he chatted politely with Quinn. Finn had always been slick with ladies, buying them flowers and writing them poems, doing all that shit that girls love. Finn was the anti-Puck and that might be just the thing Quinn was looking for now.

Puck had to get Quinn back. He needed a plan. His hand shoved deep in his pockets, Puck shuffled away thoughtfully, his mind already turning over the bare beginnings of a plan to win Quinn back.

* * *

"I heard about what happened with Puck," Finn began with a shrug, his tone annoyingly matter-of-fact as though Puck committing an indiscretion had been just simply a matter of time.

"And what? You came here to gloat? Quinn shot back angrily, her cheeks reddening at the reminder that Puck had completely fucked her over. He'd tricked her, with his sweet words and his tender kisses, making Quinn believe that Puck was a better person than all the whispering gossip and knowing conversations in the locker rooms would have had her believe.

"No," Finn replied defensively, the expression on his face genuinely stricken when he realized that he had upset Quinn. "I just came to see if you are okay,"

"Why do you even care," Quinn sighed in exasperation, the knowledge that everyone in school was probably gossiping about her, weighing on her heavily.

The news that the 'head of the celibacy club' Cheerio had fallen pregnant had been positively scandalous, while the further revelation that Puck and not Finn was the father of her baby, had been juicy enough to fuel conversations for weeks. This new development in the saga would set the tongues wagging again and Quinn wasn't sure how much more of the snide whispering and gossiping she could take. "I was a horrible bitch to you. If I were you, I would be absolutely delighted,"

"Well, I guess it's lucky, I'm not you then," Finn smiled sweetly and despite herself Quinn couldn't help but laugh. Finn had always been so good to her. He had a wonderful way of making everything seem like it was going to be okay. She'd forgotten how easy and fun their relationship had been.

Finn didn't mention Ella. And sitting on the grass beside him, with her long legs stretched out in front of her, Quinn was reminded of how things used to be before she got pregnant and kicked off the Cheerios and got into this whole fucked up mess with Puck.

"Do you want to come with me to the carnival on Saturday night?" Finn blurted out before hastily adding the amendment that they would only be going as friends.

"Of course," Quinn agreed sweetly, though inwardly she knew that was total bullshit. Saturday night was date night. Everybody knew that. And Finn had been eyeing her for weeks, his cool gaze following Quinn curiously at Glee club and in class, when he was supposed to be working at conjugating the passé composé in French.

"What time are you going to pick me up?" Quinn demanded with a winning smile and it was as easy as that.

* * *

Some of the guys from the football team were planning to head down to the river after football practice and drink some of the bottles of beer that Matt had managed to snatch from a party the previous week. The offer was tempting; Puck needing to blow off some serious steam after witnessing the worrying sight of Finn and Quinn engaging in the kind of cutesy flirting that under normal circumstances would just prompt Puck to call his friend a homo before possibly shaving off an eyebrow for good measure.

The sun was beating down furiously from the sky and Puck suddenly relished the idea of a day spent outside with the guys, talking shit and getting pissed on cheap beer. But Ella was waiting for him at home, waiting to be rocked and sang to and she wouldn't appreciate being kept waiting just because her asshole of a father decided to get drunk with his friends.

Negotiating the short distance to his house, Puck began to determinedly construct the bare outline of a plan to win back Quinn Fabray. It would involve flowers somehow, that much he knew and perhaps a fancy dinner. That Puck had only seven dollars to his name, the sum of money composed mostly of nickels and dimes collected in a dusty glass and that he could barely boil an egg were both facts he was willing to overlook for the moment. He had to, if he was going to stand any chance of winning Quinn back.

Well fuck, Santana, anyway, he fumed, his driving growing more steadily erratic as he allowed his mind to drift back to prom night.

Puck felt like punching something anytime he thinks about the sultry Cheerio. Drunk on whiskey, he was easy prey and her request to help remove an eyelash from her eye had seemed perfectly innocent at the time. What a fool he'd been. They'd barely stepped out of the function room when Santana had wrapped herself around him, her chest practically shoved into his face. And of course Quinn had chosen that exact moment to come looking for him.

Pulling into the driveway of his house, Puck force_d_ himself to calm down when he saw his sister skipping out of the house, a blonde-haired friend in tow.

It was time to relinquish his role as the asshole boyfriend Puck for a few hours and turn into Noah, the guy who, if nothing else, was at least a good father to his daughter.

* * *

The fairground was a garish tangle of lights, the air scented with the smell of buttery, greasy popcorn mingled with sickly-sweet candy floss. Discarded food containers and crumpled tickets littered the ground and the night was alive with the excited screams of the McKinley High students who had braved the gravity defying loops of the towering roller coaster. Though the day had been almost suffocatingly hot, the night was relatively cool in comparison, Quinn already regretting her decision not to wear a sweater.

"You're freezing," Finn observed softly, seeing the goose pimple rise on Quinn's bare forearms and draping his jacket impulsively over her shoulders. It was such a Finn thing to do and pulling the familiar weight of his letter jacket a little tighter around her, Quinn couldn't help but be warmed by the sweetness of the act.

"Thanks Finn," Quinn smiled, pulling her golden hair free from the tight confines of her ponytail and shaking it so it hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Finn always had loved her hair like that.

Though Finn had protested profusely to the fact that the night was a date, to Quinn it certainly felt like one. They had shared an ice-cream, split a fries and had taken a ride on the Ferris wheel twice. She could feel Finn's eyes on her when he thought she wasn't looking and he found any excuse to take her hand, wrap an arm around her shoulder, or drag her onto a predictably scary ride, where he knew Quinn would be clinging to him for dear life.

The realization that she could have Finn back, that she could strut into McKinley High on Monday on the arm of quarterback Finn Hudson was intoxicating. Puck would implode with anger, she knew and that was mostly the attraction.

_Mostly._ Finn was sweet and kind and was the kind of boyfriend that most girls dreamed of having.

"Quinn, I think, I still kind-of like you,"

His words gushing out in one jumbled, red-faced rush, Quinn looked at Finn sadly. This would be too easy. With a wide smile and a strawberry lipgloss laden kiss, Finn would be hers in a heartbeat but she had fucked with him enough. Finn wasn't the one she wanted and she knew it.

"I'm sorry, Finn," Quinn sighed, turning on her heels and running, her sandals slapping noisily on the hard asphalt with her every step.


End file.
